e
Lassiter. She did not mean to spare herself. Yet now, at the moment,
before these riders, it was an impossibility to explain.

Venters was speaking somewhat haltingly, without his former frankness.
"I found Oldring's hiding-place and your red herd. I learned--I
know--I'm sure there was a deal between Tull and Oldring." He paused
and shifted his position and his gaze. He looked as if he wanted to say
something that he found beyond him. Sorrow and pity and shame seemed
to contend for mastery over him. Then he raised himself and spoke with
effort. "Jane I've cost you too much. You've almost ruined yourself
for me. It was wrong, for I'm not worth it. I never deserved such
friendship. Well, maybe it's not too late. You must give me up. Mind,
I haven't changed. I am just the same as ever. I'll see Tull while I'm
here, and tell him to his face."

"Bern, it's too late," said Jane.

"I'll make him believe!" cried Venters, violently.

"You ask me to break our friendship?"

"Yes. If you don't, I shall."

"Forever?"

"Forever!"

Jane sighed. Another shadow had lengthened down the sage slope to
cast further darkness upon her. A melancholy sweetness pervaded her
resignation. The boy who had left her had returned a man, nobler,
stronger, one in whom she divined something unbending as steel. There
might come a moment later when she would wonder why she had not fought
against his will, but just now she yielded to it. She liked him as
well--nay, more, she thought, only her emotions were deadened by the
long, menacing wait for the bursting storm.

Once before she had held out her hand to him--when she gave it; now she
stretched it tremblingly forth in acceptance of the decree circumstance
had laid upon them. Venters bowed over it kissed it, pressed it hard,
and half stifled a sound very like a sob. Certain it was that when he
raised his head tears glistened in his eyes.

"Some--women--have a hard lot," he said, huskily. Then he shook his
powerful form, and his rags lashed about him. "I'll say a few things to
Tull--when I meet him."

"Bern--you'll not draw on Tull? Oh, that must not be! Promise me--"

"I promise you this," he interrupted, in stern passion that thrilled
while it terrorized her. "If you say one more word for that plotter I'll
kill him as I would a mad coyote!"

Jane clasped her hands. Was this fire-eyed man the one whom she had
once made as wax to her touch? Had Venters become Lassiter and Lassiter
Venter